THE BAYING
(After Jane Hirshfield’s “The Weighing”)
The world asks of us what we are least
willing to give, least willing to give up.
Most times the world takes no matter what.
Sometimes we give willingly or give in.
Either way, we are always required to give
something up as the clouds float on by,
the sun pitiless over our predicaments,
its shadows dragging along wherever we go.
If at night the stars take notice, are sympathetic,
they remain silent, do not speak or sing.
Only the moon follows us with such devotion
we taste its howls at the back of our throats.
Lana Hechtman Ayers lives on unceded lands of the Yaqo’n with her beloved husband and fur babies. On clear nights she can hear the Pacific ocean whispering to the moon.
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